paint me a lie
by whizz
Summary: Riku's not lying to himself. But he wishes he was. Riku/Roxas


**game; **Kingdom Hearts II**  
pairing; **Riku/Roxas**  
warnings; **shonen-ai (boy/boy)

**disclaimer; **I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of the characters used.

**i**

It's not really that he's lying to himself because he _knows _with every fiber in his body that it is Roxas and not Sora laying beneath him, bodies pressed together in every way possible, the heat radiating off of the smaller body not even close to warming Riku's cold skin up.

He knows it to the point where it almost hurts and he feels sick in the stomach (kind of like he wants to throw up) because it's wrong in more ways than one and Roxas shouldn't even _be _there and he's not only betraying himself but Sora, too, even though the other boy would never (could never) look at the him the same way Riku does but-

(_it's hard to crush that minimal amount of hope that is still left within the dark depths of his heart_)

Riku looks down into the whirlpool of two crystal-blue eyes, a little too tired and a little too worn out (like he has seen to much and heard it all before) to look anything like the sky-blue ones that the silvret's world once revolved around.

Riku looks straight into the smaller boy's non-existent soul (of course he realizes that there is nothing to see but emptiness) and he feels a bit disgusted with himself, although it is hard to actually discern the correct feeling in a sea of others (shame? regret? anger? it doesn't really matter) and he doesn't really need any more excuses or pondering, because-

(_that's:what:friends:are:for:right:Riku:yes:that's:right:Sora:wait:stop:hold:on:don't:let:the:Door:close-_)

-because he knows exactly what he's doing.

Meaning he can't fool himself that there is some part of him, locked deep within the confides of his self, that actually believes Sora's other part to be something so much more - that actually forgets there is a difference, that truly thinks that even if it's not the original, it's good enough because-

(_surely:there:must:be:some:part:of:Sora:left:inside:of:you_)

-but he's wrong, he's sososo wrong, and he knows what he's doing and he _knows _it's Roxas who cries his name and not Sora, knows that the lips where hot breaths and needy whimpers slip out belong to Roxas and not Sora, knows that the body heat caressing his own skin in such an intimate manner is Roxas' and not Sora's, knows that it is _Roxas_ who puts his hands on Riku's back and looks him straight in the eye and-

(_Sora:never:did:any:of:those:things_)

He's not lying to himself. But he wishes he was.

**ii**

"Riku", the voice he has grown almost-familiar with calls, a pleasant but irritably low monotone playing across the sandy-haired boy's vocal chords.

The silvret does not regard the other with a response, but his aquamarine eyes flicker from the never-ending darkness stifling the air in this alley (and all across town, really - the streets and the buildings and the people - they're all infected), confirming that Roxas has gotten his attention.

There is no hesitation in the blonde's gaze, but then again he has the most impressive poker face Riku has ever seen (it could have something to do with the fact that he has no feelings, though).

"Riku", the boy repeats, voice painfully clear despite the almost-inaudible tone of his. "What do you see when you look at me?"

The taller of the two does not even flinch, but inside of his head memories spin faster than Roxas' counter attacks, faster than the Gummi Ship when it departs, faster than it would take for him to fall down a building and just keep fallingfallingfalling-

(Roxas-not-Sora looking up at him from behind dark-blonde bangs, Roxas-not-Sora smiling one of his rare smiles, looking unusually young and carefree, Roxas-not-Sora pressing sea-salt ice cream against his dry lips, not asking Riku how he knew it was his favorite but simply observing the silvret with intelligent blue eyes).

That's not all, though. He sees the green in the grass, the blue in the sky, the white in the snow, the black in the night (the red in the blood covering his hands, the purple in the bruises scattered across Roxas' body, the grey in the stormy clouds behind the horizon, the yellow in the sandy beaches his mind keep showing him images of).

He feels the wetness in the rain, the burning of a fire, the sharpness of a blade (Roxas' blade) pressed firmly against his collarbone, the tip a hair strand away from cutting into solid skin.

"I see everything. And anything. And something that makes me afraid."

Roxas says nothing (the other begins to wonder if he even heard his answer) but suddenly, he breaks into a smile that's actually more of a smirk, but a little too hollow, a little too empty (a little too heartless).

"Is it because I remind you of Sora?"

Silence follows and the air gets loaded with something so intense a a skull-splitting scream might as well echo off the walls in the alley.

Riku lets his eyes slip shut, wanting to cry so badly but finds himself unable to.

"No. It's because you don't."

**iii**

It's days and months and _god-knows-how-long_'s later that Riku finds himself in a body that is not his own with the Light that he once dared to call _his _Light crying, kneeling in front of him and almost desperately grasping his black coat with thin but still sun-kissed fingers.

(Destiny Islands has left its traces on him, too, Riku can't help but think).

Sora's eyes are painfully real and filled with shiny tears and the silvret can't look away but it hurts to look directly into them-

(a thousand and one old scars being ripped open, and a thousand and one new scars already forming).

What disappoints Riku the most though, is that he finds himself searching for something - _someone _- else in those sky-colored orbs. Something that he can't seem to find even a trace of.

"I looked for you!" Sora cries, tugging harshly at the black material in his hands as if it would get his point across more clearly. "I looked everywhere for you!"

_I looked for you too, _Riku wants to say, but it comes out as nothing but choked air being pressed out between his thin lips (that aren't even his anymore) and it frightens him more than he thought was possible.

He still tries, though, he really does. He tries to be sincere when he smiles back, tries to mean it when he whispers they'll make it together, tries to be the same old Riku who used to be invincible and oh-so-strong, fighting with his back arched and his posture under control like always, silent even as he slashes through numerous Heartless.

But it feels wrong and out of place where it shouldn't. Where he's used to feeling right at home.

It's not until they're standing there, at the very end of what is (hopefully) their last journey and Roxas' lithe frame appears in front of him after such a long time, after all the trouble he went through to-

(Riku finally understands).

As Sora reaches out for his other half, it is not his Somebody's eyes that Roxas searches. It's Riku's own, and as their gazes connect so does the unspoken words that had been occupying both of their heads for such a long time.

Roxas knows that his time has come, and Riku knows it too, now.

He doesn't even get a chance to say anything (but maybe it's better off that way, because what _would _he had said? _i love you? _yeah right) because the next second, this brightness lights up the whole damn _world _with its blue shine, and the Roxas Riku knows and hates and (loves? loves?) disappears inside of Sora, melting together with his very being-

(which is exactly where he is supposed to be, so Riku doesn't understand why it feels like his heart is splitting into hundreds of fragments).

**iiii**

Sometimes, very briefly, he almost thinks that he catches a glimpse of Roxas' twinkle inside of Sora's eye, and it's enough to make the memory rush over him, making his blood boil and his throat go dry.

Sometimes, very briefly, he almost thinks that it is Roxas' sly tug at the corners of Sora's smile, making the usual goofy grin look that much like a familiar smirk he's seen one too many times.

Sometimes, very briefly, he feels out of place and far from home even if he is currently living in Destiny Islands yet again with Sora and Kairi and their perfect, protected childhood island.

Sometimes, very briefly, he feels like he'd rather stay in than go out and risk laying eyes upon Sora, which would just put salt in his open wounds.

And he finds it ironic that the original can make him miss the copy so much, while he knows that it should be the other way around-

(but then again, no one ever accused Riku of doing things others expected of him).

**iiiii**

A/N; i feel like a crappy author right about now. and it doesn't make me feel any better that i have about 94583 unfinished stories on my computer that i actually like and would love to finish but just can't. and then i go and write a oneshot like this in like, ten minutes (_and finish it!_) when i should be focusing on those other 94583 stories. gah.


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